Starfox: Second Sun
by One B.A. Human
Summary: Fox can do it all. He fights armadas, saves planets and always gets the girls. It's been a year and Fox has yet to steal a kiss from Krystal despite their love. Will Fox be able to save the system from evils new & old, keep his team together, and admit his true feelings for Krystal?
1. Chapter 1: Starrise Over Corneria

**Starfox: Second Sun**

While reviewing my hits for this story, I found that for whatever reason around half of all people that click on it continue to the next chapter, while the other half promptly exit. Only about a fourth of all 'hits' seem to trickle their way into the most recent chapter available (chapter 4). I'm writing to say that readers make the dream work and I feel that my story deserves a chance, and failing that, your input as to why it didn't hook you in. I haven't had a dislike yet and I plan on keeping it that way by working for it with magnificent diction and dazzling plot - or something like that... This is a story for fans and non-Starfox average Joes who just want a good read. Enjoy. ;) (Updated: August 15, 2014)

**Chapter 1: Starrise Over Corneria**

Solar was just beginning to appear over the horizon. Its orange rays touched buildings on one side while shadows loomed on the other covering most of the city of Farang. A tomcat's gaze passed over the familiar scene of the city from a balcony. He had witnessed it countless times before. His wife used to watch it with him and even his kids when they had the willpower to leave the warm coziness of their beds. But really, he suspected there was a time she did it merely for his presence. Those days, however, were gone.

There were in fact two stars that directly affected the planet of Corneria. Lylat was the hotter of the two and its rays had a blue hue. Solar was less intense due to its distance with reddish-orange rays. His daughter, Kylie, had written a poem about it: Solar is red, Lylat is blue, and Daddy - I love you. His son, Ansel, delighted to present big sis Ky Ky's poem as his own, read it on his father's day of birth. Most days though, his age was lost on him. Thoughts of his family occupied his mind. Memories resurfaced and trapped him in a limbo, where life never seemed to move on from the past.

Once upon a time, he and his wife shared a love: him, her, their kids, their home, the good times, the bad ones, the glory, then the peace, the starrises, and for some odd reason purple. Those days, however, were gone. Alone, he reminded himself how slippery such things could be, and how he had failed to hold on. No matter how far gone they were from the present, pain and happiness from the past glared on him abundantly.

He felt the cool breeze ruffle his fur. The morning promised to be cool just the way the tom liked. Despite himself, he was able to enjoy the brief peace and tranquility brought on by the scenery. As sure as the breeze, as sure as the stars, as sure as his existence, life continued. Peace itself did not for it was easily taken. Suddenly, the double doors to his office flew open with a force that threatened to push him closer to the streets below. In came a green blur of a young woman, and a new air of irritation that threatened to collide with the cold front outside.

"I swear Blackfoot, sometimes I think you ask my recommendations just so you can shit all over them," she complained. It was almost a yell, but he knew her and she took pride in her composure. To make an excessive story short, Blackfoot was a reference to his black hands and feet that contrasted his snowy pelt.

"That's not true. You're a valued member of the team and I respect your opinions." The feline had failed to turn around and greet her in hopes that whatever it was would fix itself. She tossed the papers to the cold floor as only she could, with grace. Flattery wasn't going to bring back peace. He finally turned around and gently collected the papers, reviewing their contents as he did so. Based on what he read, the matter was him choosing an apparently un-recommended vulpine to address his growing needs. "I'm sorry Lieutenant Fang, the decision has been made. Besides, he's perfect for the job." The white furred tom stood at ease with the papers behind his back as though she were his commanding officer. He found this strategy to work well on good days.

It didn't sway her. She flicked her tail irritably, "there are literally thousands of other candidates who could be vetted, including ones with better ties to Corneria. And for every two patriots there's one who completely surpasses that tribal excuse of a sentient you want." She crossed her arms, pursed her lips, put her weight to one side, and glared at him with her blue eyes.

The stance was as familiar and comforting to him as the starrise over Corneria. It reminded him of why he did what he did, his calling to bend the uncertainty of peace in the favor of the people he protected. He desired an infinite number of sunrises for many generations to come. If he succeeded, the lieutenant along with countless others would live long and regain a fleeting continuity. Such peace, however, could only be achieved if you fought for it.

Lt. Fang continued her argument and he listened until she was finished. "I have no doubt that you've given this a great deal of thought," he purred, but then his tone hardened, "but might I remind you, you were once like him." It was a reference to her simple beginnings on a planet long gone - her limbo. He shouldn't have said it. Composure abandoned, her ears drew back and her lips followed suite to reveal pearly white fangs, "xen tuho 0ei! Ev 0ei, a um…"

From the direction of the doors came a laugh, "petty squabble huh." A colossal figure leaned against the door frame. That was Lieutenant Klein, a bear from Fortuna. Despite 'huh' it was less of a question and more of an irritating observation. The Lieutenant carried an odd tongue that accented his equally odd presence. All Fortunites were like that, Blackfoot supposed.

"I'm glad to see you can find some amusement from all this," Blackfoot's replied.

"Regardless Captain, she's a point huh suh. He is strong, little else about him here," the lieutenant tapped his own forehead, followed by spreading out one of his massive arms as though it were another part of his argument. As a bear, Massaac had large wrists. They served as a testament to his raw strengh. His height fell short of average, but the muscles that rippled under his fur were a good replacement for the lost intimidation in height. And even so, short for a bear was still cause for any cat to have to look up to him.

"He might surprise you. Besides, don't you trust me?" he asked Klein sarcastically. Before he could answer, Blackfoot dismissed him with a simple wave. Blackfoot could see that although Robyn was past her anger, she was still upset with him. The flattened ears were a dead giveaway. "I appreciate your concerns, but we're past the point of discussion. We've got a big day ahead of us, as always, so we need to get ready. Dismissed." Lt. Klein dipped his head and casually retreated out of his office followed by Lt. Fang, almost.

"Wait, Robyn." She stopped and he beckoned her over with his tail. "You forgot something," he said holding out the papers that had begun the conversation. She came back obediently. Robyn had looked up to him both physically and figuratively ever since his mentoring of her. Blackfoot was all she had in the way of a father. Hell, he was old enough to be. The tomcat liked to think of it that way. Robyn filled the emptiness in him; she breathed new life into his obligations to Corneria. The tom grabbed her chin and their eyes met. "You're my little soldier, yeah?" he asked, smiling. She nodded and buried her muzzle into his chest. He felt her arms wrap around his waist. It was a rare moment of emotional vulnerability, and he cherished every second of it. Her scent filled his nostrils and with it came a flood of new memories waiting to be encoded. "I'm proud of you." She looked back up at him, this time, with a sparkle in her eyes. "One of these days, you'll inherit my job and this office, and I will sleep well at night knowing that the system is in capable hands."

She smiled and pecked him on the cheek where a scar just happened to lay. It represented a memory of his that she could only see with curiosity and without emotion. Her gaze rested still, so he decided to indulge her. "It happened during the year 2LW, Macbeth, Operation: Drought; your old man had 'em running with their tails between their legs," he began. It had indeed been a victory, which Blackfoot was accustomed to; it also had not been that cut and dry, hence the scar.

Before long, Robyn made her way to the door and stopped when her body was half in, half out. "Goodbye, Vukxoh," she stated. And with that, she was gone. It could've meant anything between goodbye and this isn't over. He didn't know the language, but he waved anyway. _Attagirl._ His shoulders became heavy from the brief reminiscing of the Lylat wars. With no one left to appease and Solar higher than before, he took a seat behind his wooden desk. The day had just begun and already he was in need of a cigar. It was a good stress reliever and another comfort. Robyn had been trying to get him to stop, but old habits die hard. He considered it a guilty pleasure, and all people had those right? The tomcat poured himself a glass of scotch so that his lungs could have a liver to sympathize with. He'd seen his own dad pour the same drink too many times, but this was different from that. Blackfoot drank because he had to. His father drank because he couldn't help but drink.

Looking back, his life was one left turn after another, starting from the day he joined the Cornerian Army. _And look how far I've come. Hey pops! Can you see me from down there? Your son is everything you were plus a murderer. _Since his first puff with his old man, he had perfected the art of the smoke ring, and then re-perfected it with 'modern' E-Cigs. Drinking came even easier, and a fresh glass replaced the first after a while. In his experience, one glass was immoral, unethical, and quite simply inadequate.

The tom was left with his bare necessities, redirecting his mind to a simple task. One. Two. Three smoke rings with the last being the smallest. They were like the sights on a weapon and through them he once again rested his gaze over the city. Blackfoot raised his glass to the starrise and gave a silent prayer of thanks that Solar had decided to rise, and he hoped Lylat would follow its sister star when the time came.

**Authors Notes**

I've risen from the grave, boOoOoOoOoo! :3

After a long time, I've revisited this chapter, that I no longer consider a prologue because it's less confusing to think of it as Chapter 1. If you click on the next chapter and it says Ch.1, you've been informed that that is no longer the case. In short, this isn't the first time I've revisited it, nor will it be the last. The goal was to add additional depth to my characters before the plot begins to unfold. As always, your feedback is invaluable, seeing as how it's the difference between a good story and a heap pile of incoherent crap. (Updated: August 15, 2014)


	2. Chapter 2: Fire & Ice

**Chapter 2: Fire & Ice**

_0500 Hours_

It was a cold day in hell, or at least that's what it felt like in Corneria's largest military base, Fort Colossus. As such, one would expect to find it buzzing with activity and CDF forces.

This was not the case due to the recent downsizing of the military. Corneria now relied heavily on mercenaries. Apparently, people would rather pay mercs to be sent on suicide missions than have there loved ones join the army, which was understandable.

Besides, there was no denying that one mercenary squad had outperformed the entire CDF in the Lylat Wars. General Pepper, a five star, in particular saw the potential in Starfox and other mercs as seen by successes such as planet Sauria.

In five years, being a mercenary went from under the radar to a respectable occupation. However, squads like Starfox transcended that. James "Fox" McCloud Jr., the leader of Starfox, had action figures, video games, cartoons, comics, and an entire generation of youth that looked up to him. If you saw a glint in a kid's eye, it was probably him or her looking up at billboard with Fox on it.

Even if there was no fame or fortune to be found as a mercenary, the arctic vulpine laying on the bunk bed would probably be in the same position.

On his planet, Inheritance, you weren't allowed to know who your father was so as to ensure cubs had no sense of entitlement. However, his mother had let it slip that his father was a highly revered and respected pilot, which narrowed down the possibilities a little.

Ever since he learned of it, he strived to become the best at everything, especially at being a pilot. The fox reasoned that even if he couldn't see his father, maybe his father could see him, and hopefully be proud of him.

It was why he left Inheritance at 16, joined Epsilon Flight academy using money that he didn't have, graduated with top honors, and why he was going the be a merc.

Technically, he didn't have any further business at Fort Colossus. He had been registered and had received tags, which was a recent mandate for mercs interested in working for CDF.

However, he didn't have any place to sleep ever since leaving academy a week ago, but luckily, the quartermaster was a good friend of his whom he had gotten to know from the firearms courses at academy.

A university is a business, and since their target audience was no longer future aces for the Cornerian air force, they had to add such courses to attract aspiring young mercenaries, who needed to be ready for any situation.

The snow-furred fox looked down at his new dog tags with deep green eyes that held a presence. The tags read:

_VASILY, DAMON B._

_O NEGATIVE_

_SN: JA3588D90_

_/Mercenary_

Although fathers weren't allowed to reveal themselves to their children, they were allowed to spend time with their cubs in the first two years of life, but no more.

Somewhere in that span, his father had carved a wooden dagger with his father's only and most important lesson to his son, "Never give up, trust your instincts."

Damon had made sure that it found its place on the second tag.

The tags were shiny, fresh from the press. It hurt to look at them when they reflected light.

One look at his tags and all people would see is an FNG, but Damon Boltari Vasily was no freakin' new guy. He was practically born for this. Back home on Inheritance, he had been trained in flight by the best pilots on Inheritance. He was a warrior always had been, and after twenty years of waiting and preparation his was ready to…

Suddenly the automatic doors slide open, interrupting his thoughts.

In came a vulpine figure. Tall, looked about 6'4", 235lbs, maybe more, dark fur with charcoal stripes, but what really made him stand out were his eyes. They were a reddish-orange and burned like a wildfire, yet they were naturally cold. It was hard to explain.

"Wakey, wakey, Sunshine," said the vulpine with a warm smile that countered his eyes.

There was only one person who called him that, Akoba. Together, they left Inheritance to be somebody.

"I didn't know the army gave level-three clearance to merc wannabes." Damon had always been a bit of a cynic and sunshine was one of his old friend's favorite nicknames for him due to the irony.

Akoba had been luckier than Damon. His father was the Chieftain, and everyone knew it. The eyes and fur were dead giveaways. Akoba was the spitting image of his father, who the younger children playfully called Chief Too Tall.

It was almost as if Akoba had been born through budding, a form of asexual reproduction.

"Ouch," Akoba stood clutching his heart in dramatic fashion, "that hurts sonny boy."

"Uh huh, I'm sure," Damon said getting into a sitting position. Akoba actually wasn't that old, he was Damon's age, and he was one of the top recruits in academy along with Damon. "So what you got for me Iceman?" Iceman was a nickname he picked up at academy. Let's just say that only a select few passed and they didn't do it with happy thoughts.

"Cup of joe," Akoba extended one of two cups to Damon.

Damon waved it away, "I'm more interested in those two folders you have there. Hand 'em here."

"That's it? No, hey Akoba how're you doing? Oh, I'm fine Damon, thank you," Akoba complained.

Akoba was rewarded with and irritated gaze. Damon sighed, "Okay, how was your glorious morning in this giant shithole?"

"You're not supposed to care about that, what's important here are the folders," came the reply.

"I already asked."

"You didn't say please."

"Plea…"

"Vas, I got our futures baby," Akoba barked, no longer able to conceal his excitement! His friend gave him the appropriate folder.

There was one for each of them. Inside were all the teams interested in giving the two rooks a shot, as a kind of "internship."

Damon opened the thick folder ignorant to the fact he was about to drop a jaw.

"I'll be damned…" There it was, the first sheet of paper, anti-climatic and beautiful at the same time. Star-Omni-Father-Damned-Fox wanted him! Damon looked over at Akoba. His first read Star W… _Oh Shit._

_0600 Hours_

Damon thanked the quartermaster followed by calling a taxi to take him and Akoba to the space dock.

The two friends arrived at the docking bay in relative silence. Damon paid the cabby. They went through security and proceeded to the actual docks. When he could see _The Great Fox_, Damon stopped and turned to Akoba. "Well, I guess this is goodbye," Damon extended his hand.

"I guess so," Akoba said taking it in a firm handshake. Fate could be cruel. There they stood, two childhood friends, practically brothers, who by tomorrow could be five star systems apart.

As he turned to begin boarding _The Great Fox_, he heard something almost silently hit the ground, almost.

"Aw come on, what are you doing?" Damon turned around to see Akoba sobbing with tail down and ears flattened. "Don't do that man," Damon asked, his ears mimicking his friend's.

"How are you gonna tell me when to, and when not to cry? Look at this shit, you're goin' away. I'm goin' away," whimpered his friend through sniffles. He was big, he was strong, and he was intelligent, but Akoba never lost his child at heart.

"Great, we both knew this was gonna happen and you're just now gettin' the shits?" Damon was vainly trying to calm his friend, in a… unique way.

"Yeah, but we didn't know we were gonna be enemies." That was the elephant in the room. Team Starfox and team Starwolf weren't exactly on good terms, which was an understatement.

"Alright, alright, I promise that no matter what happens, we will always be brothers," sighed Damon.

Akoba straightened his back and said, "Thanks Vas." The tall fox wiped the last of his tears away. He looked down at Damon with new resolve in his eyes. "Bring it in man." Akoba gripped Damon's right hand with his and hugged him with the other.

"Hell, maybe we might see each other out in the field and I could teach you a few things," Damon said half joking, half realizing.

Damon became painfully aware that they had become a bit of a spectacle to other people at the space dock.

"Hey! Nothing to see here. Is staring at me really worth all of your teeth? I know I'm good lookin,' but come on now" Damon barked taking his pent up rage out on the crowd.

Even on a good day, Damon wasn't half as intimidating as Akoba. The crowd waited 'till Iceman gave 'em a good crowd-clearing stare to disperse. He had that effect on people.

"See you on the other side Sunshine."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whoopee, group hug and all that… just don't get yourself killed."

"Don't worry 'bout me, I'm a big boy now," Akoba said playfully. Little did they know, they were gonna see each other again a lot sooner than they thought.

_0610 Hours_

Damon had been contacted by the onboard A.I. known as Rob, so the easy part was getting through the bulkhead into _The Great Fox _with the code. The hard part was going to be meeting the crew. Damon wasn't very good at making new friends.

He rode the elevator up to the bridge. The doors opened. One heartbeat... three seconds… another heartbeat.

In the captains' chair sat the most beautiful blue vixen he'd ever see in his life. She was also the only blue-furred vulpine he'd seen.

Damon quietly set down his bags, and took off his coat with an equal amount of stealth.

Her sweet scent drew him nearer. Damon was 6'1," 210lbs, arctic fur, and a set muscles that would make a red eye blush. He was tall, not so dark, and handsome.

She seemed preoccupied with a console so she didn't turn around until he was a foot away.

"Fox?" They looked into each other's eyes for a second.

"No, I'm Damon," he answered slightly confused.

She shook her head clear and regained partial composure, "sorry, it's just your eyes," she blushed.

Damon knew what he wanted to do, but he didn't even know her name so he decided to start with that.

"I couldn't help but notice your beautiful eyes and I was wandering if you had a name to go with them." He leaned in and she placed a hand on his chest to slow his advance.

"Are you sure my eyes are the only things you were staring at?" It was Damon's turn to blush. She waited until his face was good and red to answer his question.

"My name is Krystal," she said between giggles.

Their conversation was ended by the sound of the elevator doors opening and closing. Damon turned around just in time to see the million sai merc with an irritated look on his face.

"I see you've already met Krystal and Falco," said Fox in a low growl. She's part of the crew, which meant Damon was gonna get to see a lot more of her_… wait, did he say Falco?_ Damon hadn't even noticed the sneaky bastard sitting on the other end of the room cracking up.

"Uhhh, yeah sure, just… taking some initiative boss," Krystal giggled as Damon, who was slightly embarrassed, struggled to find words.

Fox walked up to him and offered his hand, "At any rate, welcome aboard son." Damon was 20 and from what he heard, Fox was 26. Son was a bit of a stretch, but Fox had him beat in field experience.

"Nice place you got here," he said taking Fox's hand. Fox was a hero, but Damon wasn't about to go apeshit for an autograph. He had respect for Fox not obsession, but even respect was hard when Damon was taller with a larger build.

Then again, Akoba was taller than Damon and yet he still had respect for him. Besides, Fox is a legend, his dad was a legend and Damon decided that he could've ended up on another team that didn't have a view, Krystal.

"Let's get something straight young buck, getting friendly with my first mate won't get you a raise." The funny thing about legends is that there aren't many pictures of McCloud Sr. and Damon hadn't seen any pictures of him, but that thought would have to wait. Fox was telling him to stay away from Krystal the 'nice way' that she hadn't picked up on, or had she?

"Hey! I thought I was first mate," Falco said missing the point. "Remind me not to save your ass the next time your arwing is getting blown to hell."

It was awkward, but Damon managed to meet the rest of the crew without another hiccup, which consisted of Katt, who was quite the flirt, and a good looking one to boot. Peppy had retired form his many years of flying with an impressive career, and Slippy was settling down with some girl and opening a mechanic shop.

That's where Damon came in. He was the jack of all trades, the best of the best, which included being a skilled mechanic. They damn sure weren't paying for his personality.

Fox showed him to his room, which luckily, it was next to Krystal's.

"Well this is where you'll be staying. I hope you didn't join the mercenary country club for shits and giggles, 'cause we have our first mission tomorrow. Take a shower, the briefing will be at 0800 in the morning," Fox started to turn around, but then seemed to remember something.

"It's our first one in a while, so starting tomorrow you're not the 'new guy.' You're a competent," Fox flicked his tail at Damon," and trusted member of team Starfox, meaning don't screw up."

With that he was gone and Damon was left to his thoughts. _It's just me, myself, and blue balls. I'm gonna make that shower a long one._

**Author's notes**


	3. Chapter 3: Ya Feelin' Lucky?

**Chapter 3: Ya' Feelin' Lucky?**

Krystal woke up to the sound of the ship's engines. She crawled out of bed and went into the bathroom. You wouldn't be able to tell by looking at the tired lump of fur in the mirror, but Krystal had come a long way since the events on Sauria.

Fox had saved her life and with it she had found new purpose. Long gone were the days of endless searching. She had stumbled across an angel that hadn't let her fall, and now she was going to be his... as soon as he let her.

She was wearing black shorts and a white tank top. She noticed that her stomach had become slightly toned since joining team Starfox.

Krystal went through her morning routine of hygiene, followed by putting on a pink shirt that revealed her shoulders and black bra straps. She put on faded black jeans, all from Katt. Her best friend had taken her to the mall and picked out some clothes for her, but only after she had gotten some new ones for herself.

Katt had been several bra sizes bigger as Krystal remembered. There was some trial and error in figuring out Krystal's size. Katt accompanied her each time she tried on a new one in the fitting room because they were quite different from what she had used previously. Krystal hadn't realized that this information would have been better kept to herself and Falco had nearly gone over the edge when he learned of it. Katt had taken the brunt of the jokes, and now Krystal owed her one. It made her anxious to wait and see when Katt would call it in.

She unlocked the doors to her room with her code 696969, and they immediately slide open. Falco had been kind enough to set it for her. _I should ask him, one of these days, how he decided on which numbers to use._

On her way to the elevator, the doors to Damon's new room opened. A code had not been set for his room, so her motion was enough to open them automatically.

She poked her head in to see if he was awake. Aside from being asleep, he was also naked with the exception of his briefs.

He had kicked off his sheets in his sleep. Krystal's cheeks turned a rosy red. Seconds had passed and she was still looking at him with her blinks few and far between. He was fit, very fit.

She shook her head clear and continued on to the elevator. The elevator stopped on the bridge. She stepped out to see Fox already there leaning over some railing. When there was thinking to be done, Fox would come here to do it.

Space was calming as well as a good view. Sometimes, however, he preferred the cockpit of his arwing. Krystal assumed it was because it made him feel close to his deceased father.

For the first time in a while, she noticed that he didn't look too bad himself. She decided not to delve into his thoughts.

"What do you think of the rook," Fox inquired? Krystal leaned on the rail next to him, imitating him.

"I think he's going to make a great addition to the team," Krystal smirked, "we've all seen his academy records," _among other things,_ she thought.

They had all indeed seen the records. Although Krystal didn't necessarily know what all the scores implied, she knew from Falco's barrage of verbal low-blows towards Fox that they were good. Good enough to rival some of Fox's old records.

"He's a bit overzealous for me," Fox lied.

Even without her telepathy Krystal knew him better than that. Fox was just being protective of her, but that was as far as he ever got… just protective.

In the year she'd been on the team, he hadn't yet admitted his feelings, or at least out loud, but they were there, she could feel it.

"Yeah? He reminds me of you Fox." That was partially true. She felt the love Damon had instantly developed for her. Plus, his eyes were of the same color and intensity as that of Fox's.

It might sound weird, but she loved those emerald gems almost as much as Fox himself. They were a defining feature.

The fact that Damon had them was a torturous tease. Krystal would wait for the right moment to get to know him better.

"Do I even want to know," Fox asked? Krystal tuned back into his thoughts. He had something on his mind. And Fox was done shooting the breeze. He turned and looked her in the eyes. His piercing emerald gaze made her feel naked. "Krystal… I…"

Krystal's luck had never really been anything to envy and it was proved as Katt walked onto the bridge. Fox stopped dead in his tracks. Krystal looked at Katt with an irritated look on her face. By the time she turned back to Fox, his thoughts were blocked.

"Am I interrupting something," Katt was mocking Fox in her own way, but she knew "the look" when she saw it.

Krystal was protective of Fox as well, and Katt was one of his biggest critics, so Krystal had to shoot her friend a look to shut her up every now and again.

"No, I'll go wake up the rest of the crew. It's about time we had that briefing," Fox exited looking downhearted.

When he was out of hearing range, Krystal placed a hand on her chest and let out a sigh.

"What's wrong Krystal," Katt meowed soothingly? Whether he meant it or not, Falco wasn't afraid to tell Katt that he loved her, but he had never swept her off her feet. So together, the two girlfriends had slowly given up on finding "the one."

"He was so close," Krystal admitted through small tears.

Krystal wasn't mad at Katt for interrupting them. If Fox really loved her, he would be able to say it anywhere in front of anyone.

Katt spread out her arms in a comforting hug, and Krystal returned her embrace.

Katt suddenly jumped up and grabbed Krystal's hands. "Hey! I have an idea," Katt squealed in delight. "You've been waiting for him long enough," she declared. Katt poked Krystal on the nose, "I say you should get friendly with that big furball of sexified muscle," her voice gleamed with mischief as she pointed with her other hand to the elevator.

"Huh?" Krystal wiped her tears away, so her friend could unconfuse her.

"You're not the only one who has been by his room," Katt smiled. "Anyway, you can use him to make Fox jealous," the feline had a devious look on her face.

"What, that's cra…" The more Krystal thought about it, the more she began to the trust Katt's seven more years of wisdom. Katt was 26 and Krystal was 19.

It was cruel. Damon was around her age and he felt something for her, but she had to know how strong Fox's love was for her. _I'll find out one way or another_.

"I know what you're thinking, but he's young, he'll get over it. This is about you," Katt reasoned.

"I guess you're right," Krystal's eyes brightened.

"You're damn right I'm right!" For the most part, everyone seemed to tone down all cussing around Krystal, but Katt was Katt. Not much you could do about that. "Just don't get carried away," Katt warned.

_0813 Hours at the briefing_

Fox walked in followed by Falco and then Damon. Fox was wearing black jeans with a white t-shirt, his dog tags, and a brown leather jacket that complemented his fur. And then there was his red scarf of course. They looked good on him.

Falco had red athletic pants with a sleeveless red shirt that had the Starfox emblem on it, a black sleeveless shirt under that shirt, a red ascot, and a white jacket draped over his shoulder. His clothes suited him nicely too.

Damon had olive drab fatigues, steel-toe boots, his tags, and a tight black long sleeve shirt under an ivory vest with the Starfox emblem. A real man in uniform.

It looked like something straight out of one of Katt's fantasies. The only problem was they were all scared little children to her in their own unique ways.

To men, she was just a drop-dead gorgeous fun-loving flirt, but what they didn't know was that she was also a realist. In other words, she could see the darker side of people.

Fox couldn't admit his feelings for Katt's good friend, Damon liked to hide behind an "I don't give a damn attitude" with a side of cocky sonofabitch. She didn't know him that well, but she had met many a man, and had therefore seen all the different sizes and packages they came in. And Falco… he could be a real… sweetheart, but he occupied the rest of his time by being an asshole.

For Katt, it was a weird combination of being turned on and disgusted at the same time. _Then again, everyone is a little screwy on the inside, right?_

She was sure they had their pros as well as cons, only problem was, she couldn't think of a single damn thing in their defense at that moment.

There was a hologram projector about ten paces behind the captain's chair, which they all gathered around.

Their squad leader tapped a few buttons and the schematics of a ship burst out into the air. Katt could see that it was Cornerian. The ship appeared to be lifelessly orbiting a planet or its moon. She couldn't tell. The ship had drifted into the barycentre of the two objects.

"Okay people," Fox got his game face on and switched into no nonsense mode that he had acquired after Peppy retired, "CDFSC has lost contact with the destroyer _Epitome of Excellence _around the planet Si Canis VIII in the Argos system. I'm sure you're all thinking what does this have to do with me? Well how about 10,000 sai each…"

"That's it? That wouldn't cover a trip to the mall," Katt exaggerated a bit, but the army didn't send team Starfox on cream puff runs. There was more to it; otherwise that was a low-ball price for their services.

"… and, an additional one million sai each for recovering the R.E.X. the ship was carrying," Fox finished.

Her eyes grew wide. Katt looked over all the faces. You could cut the tension in the air with a stick of butter.

A nuke upped the stakes. Actually, a R.E.X. Light-mass Bomb was a cluster of nukes that covered a singularity bomb covered by a unerequiem tetrahide shell.

All that shell stuff and the physics behind it didn't really mean much to her, but what she did know was that it is the most destructive bomb ever conceived and realized, a real planet killer.

If you were anywhere near it when it went off, you would be lucky if they were able to deliver a blood-stained atom to your family. Thankfully, there weren't that many of them. There were perhaps two in existence, including the one that happened to be today's pay dirt.

Fox let it settle in before continuing, "Command is assuming the worst, so we're going in with team Starwolf to investigate."

At that, Damon put on a big shit-eating grin.

Katt raised an eyebrow. _The hell is he so thrilled about? That runt can barely smile, much less get excited. Well then again, he seemed to take a liking to Krystal._

"_The Great Fox_ will rendezvous with their ship _Charon's Bounty_ in about two hours. That should be enough time to gear up. Thirty minutes after that, we'll be inside the _Epitome of Excellence_."

_0920 Hours in the Ship's Armory_

Falco looked around the armory. He was observing the others and their activities from his perch on an ammo crate.

They had all finished suiting up with some new armor that Fox had received from General Pepper. In reality, the armor was courtesy of the Cornerian tax payers.

Supposedly, they were the latest and greatest, and the great team Starfox had been blessed enough to be the first to receive the prototypes, but Falco knew better. Prototype was just a fancy word that meant the team was going to be the lab rats for some experimental armor that had a walking time bomb attached to it.

The bomb, or energy source as some eggheads might call it, was the nuclear fusion reactor that powered the mechanized movement of the incredible heavy armor and its shields.

Needless to say, this generated an immense amount of heat. In addition, you had to put on a suit infused with a poikilothermic gel just to make sure you didn't get baked alive. If that wasn't bad enough, there was a quote, "unlikely chance," that the reactor could overload and kill everyone in the immediate area with a blast big enough to open the hull of _The Great Fox_ like a damn can of beans.

The armor was rightfully dubbed REAPER armor.

Fox had explained it in great detail as it had been explained to him by General Pepper who had been assured of its reliability by some toothpick scientists who didn't plan on fighting and dying in it anytime soon.

Of course, the actual armor was optional. The aforementioned suit by itself was good for protection against projectiles and lasers because the gel would immediately harden upon high-velocity contact. Krystal and Katt had gone that route to avoid the burden of such bulky armor. What they lost in shield protection, they gained in added agility.

The suits conformed to the wearer's body, which had given Falco quiet the view.

_Oh man! Those girls are really somethin' else. Just look at those curves! Katt with her D's and Krystal with that rockin' hot body._

Krystal suddenly looked up at him, hands on hips, with an all-knowing scowl that said he was in for a slap. Falco quickly made the mental and optical adjustments to avoid her wrath, and thought about something else.

He heard a humph from her direction.

_Whew, that was close._

His eyes darted around the room trying to acquire another suitable target for his thoughts, and they landed on a snow furred vulpine.

The rook had gone a completely different route. He had brought his own armor.

He had said something about inheritance or some shit like that_._ Falco hadn't been listening.

He didn't want to get close to the new guy. Hell, he didn't even know the poor bastard's name. Falco just called him J after his SN. J didn't seem to mind and had simply added it to the list of names he responded to when they were said.

That way, when the greenhorn died Falco wouldn't have to give a shit. _Then again, Fox will probably drag my ass to the funeral service. But hey, that's better than going and grieving._

Just from looking at it though, he could tell that the metal couldn't be found on Corneria, but if Falco had to describe it, he'd say it closely resembled silver. The relic had many dings and scratches on it. It had definitely seen its day in battle.

_There's no way that was always his. That kid would've had to have been fighting his whole life to get it that way._

There was a scar on the breast plate that particularly caught the eye. It was probably the death blow that had vacated the armor for J.

The armor looked bulky enough to save the wearer from a .50, but Falco wouldn't trust it against a modern laser. It made him glad he was wearing the damn bomb.

Falco couldn't hold back his curiosity any longer. "Hey J!" The rook looked up from cleaning his double-barreled 10-guage lever-action. "Who's the unlucky bastard had that before you?" Apparently, the others were wondering the same thing because they dropped what they were doing, eager for an answer.

He just laughed, slow at first, saying to himself barely audible, "ha, unlucky bastard. Damn straight." Then it turned to hysterical laughter, "hey, that's a good one Falco."

After his laughter left him, his ears flattened and his eyes gained a sad patient look.

It irritated Falco, for two reasons. One, the answer had the opposite effect that the avian had been looking for. The others looked dumbfounded and disappointed as well, but just turned back to what they were doing except for Krystal. Her ears flattened as Damon's had. And second, Falco didn't like the way the rook talked to him like they were old chums.

"Hey J-erkoff, I'm your senior and I asked you a question!" Falco stood up. In full armor, he was 6'4" and just shy of 600lbs.

Falco heard a crackle inside his helmet, "more like senior moron Falco." Fox had opened a private channel with him. "Are you trying to teach the kid what not to do?"

"That sonofabitch was laughin' in my face!"

"It's not that important man."

"Right, I'll keep that in mind… while I teach him a lesson."

"Terrific! And afterwards, you and I can just carry that two ton bomb by ourselves."

_I hate it when he's right. That punk isn't worth it anyway. _Falco thought about it, and found his seat back on the ammo crate.

He looked back over to where the rook was sitting; just waiting for the vulpine to taunt him so he could walk over and make his day. Instead, Damon was looking at Krystal, unblinking, while Krystal stared back.

_They must be talking or someth… wait a minute. How'd that get there?_ He felt a hand grab his crotch.

"Save your testosterone for me tiger," a female voice seductively whispered. Somehow, Katt had maneuvered over to him like a ghost.

"Don't worry, I always have a little something for my favorite girl," he said like a pimp to his highest selling whore. Katt pulled away a little. Obviously, she had been expecting a little bit different of a response. Perhaps "you got it, love," or maybe even "Ooooweee baby, I love it when you talk dirty."

_Dammit! Why is everyone pissed at me all of a sudden? And why isn't J?_

After about five minutes, everything was back to normal. Normal being an awkward silence as everyone put the finishing touches on their preparations.

Falco was squirming inside his suit though. As an avian, he found it against his nature to be trapped inside over 400lbs of secret project government bullshit, but he was also frustrated. Falco had always gotten butterflies before a mission, and today was no different. It would have been easier to fight J or screw Katt than to just sit down in silence and wait to walk into presumed hostile territory.

He missed the old days when he was getting laid every night. After the Lylat wars, they were all famous. Falco could just walk into a club and take a girl back to his apartment, but many times, it was two. After a while, though, it was discovered that Fox was the leader, and Falco got less and less airtime. And after that he had to leave the team to save Katt. And after he came back, all there was to be found was more work like Sauria.

Yes, he remembered those days quite clearly.

Falco was drawn back into reality by a fusillade of clicks. The others were slamming cartridges into their weapons, even Krystal, who had been forced by Fox to take a security blaster to accompany her preferred staff.

R.O.B. could be heard over the ship intercom, "_Charon's Bounty detected, beginning docking."_ R.O.B was an advanced enough A.I. to hold an intelligent conversation. Falco suspected the reason it refrained from doing so was due to a personality issue. Either that or it doubted anyone on the ship could. Smart A.I.'s were capable of things such as doubt.

Falco stood up and shoved a battery into his V2 O'Neil & Smith laser rifle. He reached around his back until he heard a clank as the rifle got caught in the magnet on the right side of the reactor cooling fan.

He reached over and grabbed his helmet. The system realized it was complete when the helmet was properly attached. It beamed to life. It was a whole different world inside that thing.

Falco was ready for the job. He was gonna go in, kick some pirate ass, get paid, and maybe get lucky afterwards.

_I'll get my life together… tomorrow… after I get laid. Well shit, I have to take into account the hangover now don't I? It'll happen though. I'll get around to it one of these days._

**Author's Notes**

I hope this chapter was satisfying like I hope all the others are, but if for any reason it isn't, I'm always open to suggestions. Good suggestions.

Don't forget to check my profile for character profiles and my favorites for other great fanfiction! I've updated it (5/26/12).

Honest reviews please.


	4. Chapter 4: Dead Space

I know that my story has been lacking action thus far, but I think some readers are going to be very pleased with the next few chapters. There's something in my story for everyone. Just because it's not in there now, doesn't mean it won't be there later. ;3

**Chapter 4: Dead Space**

_0945 On the Bridge_

The mercenary life wasn't as glorious as it was cracked up to be nowadays. It sucked actually, but it was the only thing Fox knew how to do. What had killed his father gave him a place in the world.

One of the only reasons he stayed with it was the considerable amount of debt he had inherited. It needed to be paid. Mercenaries made good money.

On the bright side, he liked being the "Galactic Police" as one paper had called his team, or the "Angels of Liberation." Fox found justice for his father by defeating Andross, and then he did it again by killing him just one short year ago. There was a little closure gained from it, not happiness, just closure. So in addition to getting paid, Fox got to help people like he had helped himself.

Flying was a big part of it too, but that wasn't going to happen today unfortunately.

The captain of _The Great Fox_ found himself staring at the dark side of Si Canus's moon where _Charon's Bounty _was waiting to link up.

It was a destroyer, and a giant one at that. An Inzo-class ship that was designed to dish out the punches. An older model too, so no shields, but its massive superstructure could take a beating safely. Fox had a bad feeling that one day he'd be tasked with defeating it. Not an easy endeavor by any stretch of the imagination.

The light brown vulpine watched the moon get closer and closer as twelve or thirteen minutes went by. The sound of the elevator doors hit his ears. He knew who it was without even looking, or he knew who he wanted it to be. The pleasantly correct vulpine turned around and greeted her with a respectful bow of his head.

"It's time," came the intoxicating voice of Krystal. "Are you going to escort me?"

He nodded and bent his elbow. He hadn't expected it, but Fox wasn't about to deny it to her. She took his arm and placed her other hand softly where his left bicep would be under the REAPER. She seemed to be enjoying the moment, so he walked slowly to the elevator.

"Is this going somewhere?" His ears perked up hopeful for a yes.

"No," she replied nonchalantly without looking at him.

"What?" He asked surprised.

"You haven't given me a good reason Fox," she answered. She watched him out of the corner of her eye and waited to see how he would react.

Fox knew what she wanted and he hesitated. _Sorry Krystal, my heart is for you, but my brain and my balls are for business. This is business. Maybe another time… when I stop being a pussy about it_, as Falco had told him he was.

He had always fantasized about her taking control of the situation to make it easy on him, but left to his own devices, he had doubts. Was he good enough for her? Was the great James McCloud Jr. worthy of Krystal, the beautiful, intelligent, compassionate vixen from afar?

The vulpine winced as she began walking again, but she hadn't released his arm, so he matched her pace.

The elevator ride down and the walk to the loading bay seemed like an entire vacation thrown into just two minutes. He would have given anything for just a minute more despite his earlier folly, which he now regretted like the rest of 'em.

They arrived to the bulkhead just before the loading bay. He took another look at her before he dropped his arm. She opened her eyes and was forced to do the same. Fox needed to look like a leader in front of the rest of the crew, not a horny schoolboy.

Fox placed his hand carefully on the sensitive scanner to the large metal doors. It properly identified him, the doors opened, and he was given a light greeting by the rest of his unenthusiastic crew. Krystal left his side and went over to stand in between Katt and Damon.

Falco walked over and bumped Fox with his elbow. "Two foxes away while the rest of us are down here? I wonder," Falco brought his hand to his chin in a thoughtful manner.

Katt decided to play along, "hmm, I thought heard the weeps of a crying man." Krystal nudged Katt.

Fox ignored the taunts and put on his helmet. "Let me see all green," he requested. His helmet had a built-in Situational Awareness Feature. One of the aspects of the SAF was the lights in the top left corner that indicated bio signs. Green was good and red was dead, very simple.

One by one each light came to life. One, who was Fox, two, who was Falco, three, who was Krystal, four, who was Katt, and… _Where is five?_

Fox looked up at Damon. The rook shrugged, "mine's broken."

"You're a mechanic, fix it," Fox ordered.

"Yeah, not a magician, I can't repair it here with spit and wishful thinking," Damon countered. Katt laughed, obviously amused.

Fox rolled his eyes behind his helmet, "ok then."

_The mission hasn't even started and already things are starting to go wrong. _He sighed.

Everyone braced as the superstructure of the ship shuddered. "Docking complete. Now pressurizing _The Great Fox_ and _Charon's Bounty_," R.O.B. announced in his regular monotone.

"Alright people," Fox began, "it's about time we welcomed our friends at Starwolf."

Most ships had the technology to grab onto each other in case it was crippled and needed to offload crew while being carried safely away. That was what was happening right then except nobody was in need of assistance.

Team Starwolf would ride the platform up to _The Great Fox_, and then Wolf and he could make a plan to infiltrate the _Epitome of excellence_. If he got lucky, it would all go down with little to no trouble.

Five pairs of ears twitched at the sound of gears grinding to bring up the platform with their guest. The team rearranged itself into a line, and waited.

The grind lift stopped and Fox's eyes darted back and forth between the members of Starwolf. He saw five faces, two old, and three new. They were in a V. Left to right, front to back, it was Wolf, Leon, a panther with purple fur and yellow eyes all neatly tied together with an ugly scar from his right eye to his jaw line. Then, there was a dark-furred tower of a vulpine with cold hard devilish eyes. To finish, there was a golden lioness with short dark red hair and light gray eyes surrounded by thick eyeliner.

The lioness looked around the loading bay unimpressed. She was pretty, c-cups, and a nice physique. Fox couldn't help it. All men checked out women, especially ones they've never seen before. He could already sense Falco about to jump out of his pants next to him.

His eyes moved back to the dark vulpine. A shiver went down his spine.

_Damn, that's one mean looking son of a gun._

The big fox walked forward and extended his hand to Krystal. She took a step behind Katt who would normally be all over a man like that.

_So, I'm not the only one who felt it. Oops, wait a minute._

He watched Damon go over and take the hand. "How ya' been Iceman?" Everyone raised an eyebrow except Katt. She had her lips pursed and her arms crossed like she knew a thing or two about the subject.

"Let me introduce you to the rest of the crew," Damon began showing the vulpine the crew down the line. "Akoba, this is Krystal," Damon placed a hand on each of the two vulpines' shoulders.

The Iceman, as he was apparently nicknamed, once again stuck out his hand. "Don't worry, I don't bite," the new face gave a warm trustworthy smile that nobody seemed to expect based on the cover of the book.

It was refreshing to see such a thing from the usually cold Starwolf team, which was exclusive to hard-nosed badasses. The smile won him a handshake from each of the members of Starfox, even Falco.

Then the large fox returned the service by introducing Damon to Starwolf. The kid gave them all half-assed greetings until he got to the lone female in their group. "My name is Damon, pleased to meet you, err…"

_Man, it's like that guy doesn't want anything to do with anybody, but then he turns around and treats women like royalty._

"Gisselle," she answered taking his hand and lightly shaking it.

"Gisselle huh? What's a lady like you doing hanging around these hairy-assed mercs?"

The lioness frowned. "I am one of those mercs," she retorted, giving Damon a firmer grip like she was refraining from tearing his arm off. It would seem that this was a classic case of deceiving looks.

Meanwhile, the panther found himself next to the ladies of Starfox, Krystal in particular. He gave her a rose and introduced himself, Panther Caroso. Everyone was watching that. An internal yet universal sigh of relief could be felt as she passively rejected his advances without so much as a word.

Fox watched Katt maneuver over to panther. She probably noticed that Krystal didn't want anything to do with that guy. And so the flirtatious feline began toying with the unsuspecting panther until his face was a satisfying crimson red and then some. She pressed herself onto him and he took compensatory steps backwards all the while Katt was whispering sweet nothings into his ear. He finally lost his balance and fell square on his tailbone. That got a laugh from each of the eight onlookers.

Fox gave it a few minutes before making his way over to Wolf. "The officer's quarters is this way," Fox jerked his head in the direction of the bulkhead. Wolf nodded and they made their way to down the corridor, to the elevator, and on to the officer's quarters.

Once inside, Wolf took out a folded schematic and spread it out over the wooden table in the center of the room. "Alright," he said, "I was thinking that Leon and your boy Damon could go in through engine three here," his finger touched engine three on the schematic," and check for any remaining crew as break-off Cinder. The rest of us will enter through the portside hangar here while Panther stays with the dropship, just in case. You and I, Alpha break-off, will split off at the elevator, head to the bridge, and try to find out what all went down on that ship. Katt, Krystal, Gisselle, Akoba, and Falco will go deck by deck as advance group Bio to find the bomb."

"Huh?" It was the only word Fox could muster. Wolf had blown him away.

"Was I going to fast for you?" Wolf looked up from his plans.

"No, it's just… we're rivals."

"No shit captain obvious, wanna fight about it?"

"Yes, I mean no, I mean… dammit," Fox tried to collect his thoughts. "It's just that I didn't expect things to go smoothly between you and me, much less you already having a plan." Fox hadn't expected help from such an unlikely source.

"Yeah well, that's called teamwork." Wolf shook his head, "listen Fox, now's not the time for leadership 101, and I'm damn sure not gonna hold your hand, so pick up your bottom lip and lets get to work here, alright?"

"Uh okay… sure thing Wolf," Fox said with renewed energy.

"You're working with Starwolf this time, part of the wolf pack, understand?" Wolf put emphasis on the words with and of, and finished his sentence by bringing his fist to his chest. "Shit runs smoothly during my show," Wolf grinned. Together, Fox and Wolf embodied the third law of physics. They were opposites yet they were equals, as exhibited by him agreeing with Wolf's plan. Hell, Fox had to admit, it was a good one anyway.

"I'm going to hold you to it," Fox said half conversation, half serious.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, you got any smokes in here?" Wolf took out a lighter with the Starwolf emblem engraved into it.

"No," Fox blinked.

"Any drinks, whiskey maybe?"

"I could put some hand sanitizer in a soda if you want," Fox offered.

"Is this how you treat all your guests?" Wolf snorted in disgust. "That's low down dirty messed up shit, even for you Fox."

Fox couldn't help but chuckle, _look who's talking._ Wolf went over to the fridge in a fit and took a look inside.

"Oh ho ho, thought you could hold out on me, eh Fox?" He stood up, teeth showing, clutching a bottle of thirty-three scotch as if it were a precious jewel.

"I had no idea, must be Falco's," Fox shrugged.

_Well shit, if we're gonna do this, we're gonna do it right. _He grabbed some shot glasses and turned to see Wolf already sucking down the bottle. Fox put the glasses back. Wolf apparently didn't need it and Fox sure as shit wasn't about to drink his backwash.

"Good thing I came prepared," Wolf said himself. The lupus pulled out a Hot Rocks cigar and put it to the blue flames of his lighter. Wolf puffed a few smoke rings his rival's direction. Fox didn't have the lungs of a smoker, but the rings didn't faze regardless. The gray wolf studied him with purple eyes.

"Maybe you do want one," he said as if he had already received a no. Wolf pulled out a spare and offered it to his, perhaps at the moment, equal. Fox shook his head.

"Sure? I got them from Gisselle, and she brought 'em all the way from Macbeth," he gave Fox one last chance to change his mind.

They sat down at the table and had a decent conversation using all their spare time, save only five minutes at the end to go over the plan once more in detail.

_1020 In the Hangar_

Fox and Wolf gave out all the orders to their various associates. Now everyone knew what to do, and Fox didn't have people who weren't capable of the things he asked.

They all piled into the CT/A-88 drop ship. It was more affectionately known as a Valkyrie by anybody who had ever been rescued from a hot zone by it. It was designed for troop transport, extract, and heavy lift. To accommodate all of these needs it had sixteen passenger seats, an 88mm cannon, two salvos of broadsword missiles, and four magnetic locks capable of holding an MBT Landmaster.

Krystal was the last to enter. Fox had saved her a spot next to him. He smiled behind his helmet and patted the seat. Fox was rewarded with a, "humph," that he hadn't expected from her.

Then she did another thing that he didn't see coming. Krystal found a place next to Damon and rubbed her muzzle against his as a sign of affection. Obviously, he didn't know of her intentions either because a look of surprise crossed his face, but his pause was not long. J draped his right arm over Krystal's shoulders. His chin rested on her head enjoying her company. His mouth was opened slightly to draw in her invigorating scent. And his eyes were closed savoring the moment.

It all made Fox supremely jealous, and beyond that he was also deeply confused. Earlier, Krystal wanted nothing more than for him to kiss her, but now, she was all over the rook. Both Krystal and Damon remained in the same position for the duration of the flight to the _Epitome of Excellence_ like two statues. The scene ate at Fox until the Valkyrie shuddered signaling its stop.

"We're in range," Panther announced over the com. Everyone stood up and began checking each other's suits for anything that would make it unsound for space. Fox saw thumbs up all around. He looked to Wolf who nodded his approval. It was the go-ahead for Fox to take the lead.

The hatch to the Valkyrie opened and Fox switched to Cinder com. "You two are up," he pointed to Damon and Leon. Fox and Wolf received all coms, but they had the option to adjust what received them.

"Yeah, we'll send you a postcard from the meat grinder," Damon prophesized. The rook turned and made his way to the edge of the Valkyrie.

"Hey kid!" Wolf called. "Hasn't anybody ever told you nobody likes a cynic?"

Damon did a one-eighty. "Fine by me, I don't like you either," he retorted. J tucked his knees into his chest, leaned back, and blew a kiss to Krystal before performing a noteworthy back flip into the vacuum of space. Fox could see his thrusters activate. Leon quickly followed and the two speed off to their objectives.

"Where'd you find that damn kid?" Wolf asked.

Fox switched to Alpha com, "same litter as this bomb we're looking for," he joked.

"No shit," Wolf agreed. The hatch closed and they continued to the portside hangar. Wolf put on a different tone, "hey listen, don't be surprised if little miss sunshine comes back with a few cuts and bruises," Wolf said menacingly.

"What the fuck Wolf? You're going to pull this shit on me this late in the game?" Fox fought urge to punch Wolf because he knew exactly what the bastard was talking about.

"He's got to get his hard knocks in sometime," Wolf argued, "and he's not gonna get 'em from a routine search and retrieve, even if it is for a R.E.X." The lupine waved his hand dismissively, "besides it's nothing big. It's just a friendly hello from Leon on behalf of all the mercenary squads."

Fox was about to pursue it further because he suspected something more sinister, but he remembered what he had said to Damon the previous night. _He's a member of Starfox now. Damon can handle it._

_1031 Inside Engine 3_

"Poor ship, the pirates really did a number on it," Damon marveled. To his left, there was a hole big enough for ten men to get through comfortably.

"You talk about it like it's an infant," Leon pointed out. The snowy vulpine turned to meet Cinder 1's visor, which was Leon's codename for the mission.

"Infant? No. Expensive? Yes," Cinder 2 corrected. He rubbed two fingers together. "This machine is worth more than you 'n I combined." Damon walked over to the maintenance bulkhead. He had the code, but that wasn't as entertaining as hacking it himself.

"Speak for yourself, Sunshine," Leon said with a downward inflection as if to say the rook should know better. _Sunshine? Damn, Akoba must've missed me. He always was a talker._

"My friends call me Sunshine; you can call me Cinder 2," the ashen mechanic affirmed. It took fifteen more seconds, but the code panel couldn't say no to him forever. The satisfying sound of the door going vertical put a smile on his face. "Ladies f…" Damon was cut short by flying sparks accompanied by a screeching noise. J turned to see maintenance entry stop before it was completely open.

"That didn't sound good," Cinder 1 observed. Then, the gears gave out, and the previous access came crashing down.

In one fluid reaction, Cinder 2 was under the heavy titanium bulkhead supporting its full weight. The chameleon quickly ducked under the door. Once on the other side, Cinder 1 lifted the weight off the shoulders of his wingman. When Damon was safely on the other side, Leon dropped it.

"I take it back. This ship was worth a lot of money," he emphasized the word was.

"Yeah, why don't you take point in case anything else is broken?" The room they found themselves in was dark, no lights. The vulpine turned on his head lights and his visor polarized, all to allow him maximum visibility.

It wasn't surprising. In a typical raid, pirates would use overwhelming numbers to quickly handle your shields. Next, they take out the communication array to make sure you can't call for help, followed by taking out the engines and power. Then would come the worst part, the boarding, where their ships got in real close to eliminate the usefulness of your big guns. Depending on how nasty the leader was, after they entered your ship, the bastards would take what they wanted and leave, or have a little sick fun with the crew. Based on the lack of crew thus far, this S.O.B. chose the latter.

"How noble of you," the fox replied with ample amounts of sarcasm. The rook did it anyway, but not the whole way. Without a word, the two began to leapfrog. Damon would clear a room, find a door, and breach it. Afterwards, Leon would take point using the same procedure. It was a big ship, so this went on for a while, until they entered an unusually well lit room. To Damon's right, he saw a lantern resting on a crate. _That's weird._

"Hold on kid. My datapad reads oxygen in here." The adamantite clad fox read the same on his datapad. "I'm taking this damn uncomfortable helmet off," his wingman complained.

PEW!

Without warning, another illuminant emerged from the darkness. He could see the red tint of the light from the corner of his eye, and his visor polarized in compensation. There was a loud clank and something slumped down onto Cinder 2's heel. Damon dived for the crate with the lantern. For all he knew, the snowy fox was going towards the source, but it was better than just standing there. Damon turned off his head lights, and made sure his immediate surroundings were clear before slowly peaking around the corner. He saw body a laying there. Half of its face was vaporized, but it was Leon for sure. Similar build plus the Starwolf emblem made him sure of it. _Shit._

J opened the break on his shotgun to make sure the 10-gauge shells were properly in the breach. _Shit._ The gun was a complex hybrid of a lever and break-action, which could lead to jamming problems and so on. However, what he lost in reliability and ease of use it more than made up for in firepower and rate of fire with the Bulltrue, as it was nicknamed. Everything seemed alright, and he closed it. _Shit! We're not alone on this dead ship; I gotta warn Fox! But first, this guy's in my way._

"Toss the double, and come out with your hands up!" The voice was slightly distorted, which meant Cinder's 1 assailant was armed and armored. _Not good._

"So you can shoot me too? I don't think so pal!" he yelled. _Time to test the waters. _To his left there was another crate within his distance, maybe fifteen feet away. He quickly formulated a plan: _dash left, cover a third of the distance, pop a flare, and then leap the rest of the way 'cause this guy's hair-trigger is gonna let loose after that flare lights up_. There was a lot of guess work involved. Assuming the guy ran out of shots, Cinder 2 could rush his position, and take out the shields of his opponent. After that, it was all CQC. He wanted to subdue the challenger and get some damn answers.

Damon took a tactical flare from his belt and waited in a low crouch. His ears were tense, listening for more words from his foe. Believe it or not, talking leaves you very vulnerable. Most people didn't expect things to happen during conversation, even in a situation as high-octane as this.

"It wasn't a…" she began. The snowy vulpine chose his moment. He took a step, and in the ensuing stride, he covered a yard. Damon popped the flare, and sent it to the air with a high arc to cover all areas of the room with is blinding light. A barrage of laser shots split the air. Cinder 2 leaped for cover, entering a roll as he came down. He quickly recovered, and the southpaw took his shotgun in a ready-to-use position. Five seconds later, his ears heard the last light of the flare.

J rounded the crate and bum-rushed where he thought his adversary lay, and at full stride, he crossed the room in a mere two seconds. A figure lay blinded on the ground next to a crate. The fully clad foe looked up just in time to take a torso-full of buck shot from the Bulltrue. The snow-furred fox watched the shields dissipate, and he tackled the guy, dropping his gun.

Blinded or not, it didn't take a genius to figure out that Damon was right on top of him, so the vulpine's adversary pulled a 7-inch obsidian blade from his combat vest. Shields were good at stopping energy-based weapons and high-velocity projectiles, but not knives.

J quickly pinned down the wrist of the armored assailant with his grip. He used his free hand to rip off his foe's helmet. _It's a woman?_ Simultaneously, she writhed free her right hand, which had previously been pinned by the snowy fox's left knee, and took the combat knife from its sheath on Damon's thigh. She stabbed at him, he reacted, and the blade went straight through his hand. It caught him off guard.

The woman took advantage of the situation, placing her palms on the hard floor, and pushing. Her lithe body and armor frame allowed her to slide out from under him. The combatants found their feet in unison. She picked up her knife, and he pulled his out from his hand, grunting with the effort. The blade glistened with blood. _Damn, that's my trigger hand._

His eyes scanned up and down the figure. Three things caught his emerald eyes. First, she was a commando. Cinder 2 could see the edge of the soldier's regimental patch on the right shoulder. It was the ablaze firing pin, which was the symbol for the 302nd Sovereign Katinan Commandos. Damon knew because his good friend Ravelo, the quartermaster, was of the same regiment. Next, she was an otter, and lastly, the condition of her armor. There were scorch marks and scratches covering almost the entire surface.

"Listen lady, you have thoroughly pissed me off," Damon barked. "So why don't you put down the knife, and we can talk this over?" he asked in a threatening tone. Despite the way he said it, she lowered her dagger slightly, and started to breath hard as the adrenaline coursing trough her blood began to ware off. Perhaps, she saw the Starfox emblem on his armor, or maybe she didn't want another go with him. In any case, the commando still had some skepticism in her reserve, as seen by her still defensive posture.

"Okay, keep the knife," he mumbled. "Let's start with something simple like, oh, I don't know. Why'd you melt his face off?" J pointed to the smoldering corpse behind him.

"I… I thought he was one of th… them," she stuttered. Without the distortion from her helmet, she had a raspy voice. _Them must be the pirates. _He lowered his knife a little.

"Are you alone?" he continued. She nodded. It all made sense. _She's been stuck on this boat for a month. Mental and physical fatigue accompanied by some paranoia._ The vulpine was possibly looking at a rape victim to make to make things shoddier._ Leon was just a sad case of friendly fire._ He tucked his cutting edge back into its sheath. _And I'm not here to kill friendlies._

"Alpha 1 Actual," he radioed.

"Go ahead Cinder 2," Fox responded.

"I've found a survivor, waiting for further instruction, over," he said.

"I? Where's Cinder 1?" Fox inquired. Damon looked over at the limp body that was his wingman. Some ash fell from the intact part of the corpse's smoldered face. Cinder 2 turned back around. The commando had sheathed her knife now too.

"He's busy," the rook lied. He knew that Wolf was receiving as well as Fox. In all likelihood, if the lupine knew what had happened, he would kill her for revenge. Based on the stories about him, female or not, CDF or not, there would be no hesitation. Nothing was beneath Wolf O'Donnell. There was a pause on the other end.

"Just one survivor?" Fox posed.

"I'm a little rusty on my astrophysics, but yeah, just one," he mocked. Another pause followed.

"Alright, clear the rest of the engine block, and link up with Bio," Alpha 1 Actual directed.

"Can do, Cinder 2 out," Damon finished. He met the otter's gaze.

"Are you good to go?" he asked. She picked up her sidearm, and loaded it with a fresh full cell. By the looks of it, it was her last. Subsequently, she picked up her helmet. The commando gave him the thumbs-up.

"Yeah"

"Do me a favor will ya,' and keep your finger off the trigger," he half joked, half advised.

"Hell, if you get me outta here alive, I'll have your damn kids," she cracked. Right then, as he looked into her blue eyes, the snow-furred fox made a silent vow to ensure her safety. Not for the kids, not for the mission, but for principle. Character was one of the four values instilled into cubs on Inheritance. He would protect her because it was the right thing to do. _This woman lasted even when all of her comrades fell around her, faced starvation, and mental strain. She's earned the right to live._ The survivor stuck out her hand.

"I'm Delilah by the way," she obliged.

"Damon," he replied, taking her hand. He grabbed his Bulltrue from its place on the ground. Delilah put on her helmet, and Sunshine watched her shields recharge. The vulpine strolled over to Leon's remains, and ripped off his dog tags, which was enough to sever his head. _Odd._ He made a mental note that Leon had his knife unsheathed.

Damon glanced at Delilah, and jerked his head in the direction of the nearest bulkhead. Together, they trudged on.

_She's a marine for sure._

**Author's Notes**

First off, sorry it took me so excruciatingly long to get this up. I hope this doesn't disappoint anybody, and if you do feel so inclined to give me some of your time, honest reviews please.

I don't plan on making you wait long for the next one, but writer's block is always a lurking evil. Plus, I've been pretty busy lately, but it will get done.


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